Along the beaches of sunny Southern California, there was a great big cloud. The cloud was a product of the coast, coming of age at the interface of mountain and sea. The cloud loved the comfort of the mountain and his life above the ocean. When the cloud was not kissing the face of the mountain, he would float to the water and over the waves, providing shade to hot fisherman and lazy beach goers. One day, a strange, warm wind blew from beyond the mountains, whispering tales of far off places and unseen lands. The cloud had never wondered of a life beyond the mountains and the sea before. Mustering the courage, the cloud grew taller and taller and taller until he was just tall enough to peak over his beloved mountain. The wind was right! There were other mountains and a desert, too! The cloud had never seen anything like the desert before. The desert was exotic and beautiful, dangerous, yet captivating—so different from the green of the mountains. The cloud spent many days admiring the desert: the way her cacti glowed in the setting sun, her tan complexion blushing with soft pink flowers. The cloud was defeated. “I love my mountains and my sea,” said the cloud, “I cannot leave them, but if I were to hug the desert with my rain, she would cease to be this enigmatic, striking landscape I admire from afar” The cloud didn’t know what to do but cry. The cloud cried and cried pouring his rain down the mountain, filling the rivers that fed the ocean. The cloud grew smaller with each hour of rain. The cloud cried because he could not be with the desert without changing the desert. The cloud felt feint. Without his shadow, the cloud could not remember his purpose. He forgot about the hot fisherman and the lazy beach goers, the mountains and the sea.

As the days collected, the cloud began to feel recharged by the ocean spray until one day the cloud had a shadow the size of the one it did before. From the sky, the cloud heard the calls of the hot fisherman and swimmers, elated to see the shade of the cloud coming towards them. The cloud’s spirits were rekindled by his friends of the coast, so he decided to pay his mountains a visit. “Amazing!” exclaimed the cloud. Where his tears had fallen, the mountain was teeming with life. “I love my mountain!” gushed the cloud. “the depth and diversity of her greens are like none other. Moreover, the mountains provide life to my friends of the land.” The cloud was reinvigorated with a sense of purpose and belonging. The cloud saw that when he flourished, so did those he loved.

The cloud cried once more, but this time tears of joy. “How lucky am I to have such green and plentiful mountain beside me. And even though I cannot love the desert the same way I love my mountain, I am free to admire the desert whenever I please now that I know she exists!” The cloud was completely at peace, for he could have his mountains and his sea and also have the company of the desert nearby. “Before I knew the desert, I knew not of longing,” explained the cloud to the mountain, “but I would rather live with this intrigue and be able to delight in the uniqueness of the desert than have gone my whole life thinking there was nothing more than this coast.” 

What a strange and beautiful life, thought the cloud, and he remembered to thank the warm wind the next time it brushed by.